Fireball (19 page)

All this time they were under observation by the Algonquians. Since the purpose of their activity was so obvious, Simon wondered whether the Indians might intervene to stop them, but they never approached nearer than a couple of hundred yards. The reason, it eventually occurred to him, was that, in Red Hawk's view, putting out to sea on a raft was the equivalent of going into Iroquois territory, as far as the outcome was concerned: the moment they did it, they were as good as dead. He straightened up from hammering and looked across the heaving swell. It seemed to stretch into eternity, grey sea merging into grey sky. Red Hawk was probably right, at that.

At last it was finished. They stacked what was worth taking with them, including the meagre store of food, in the centre of the raft. Curtius wanted to set
fire to the cabin, but the others said no: it might provoke the Indians to see their prospective spoils going up in smoke. The last thing Bos took was a pouch, which he tied securely to his belt. In it were roots of vines in a protective cocoon of moss. He had brought them with him from the emperor's own vineyard in Rome, and his promise to himself was that someday, in some place, they would grow, and flower, and fruit; and he would make wine from the grapes.

It only remained to float the raft. That wasn't easy, either. They had to struggle, knee-deep in near freezing water, to move it. At last it bobbed clear, and they scrambled on board. It was about fifteen feet across, with a low surrounding gunnel. It would have been a mad idea for four men to entrust their lives to such a craft even on a placid lake in summer. They had erected a small mast and had a sail but could not use it with the wind blowing steadily towards shore. They paddled the raft out through the breakers.

It helped a bit when they could strip off their soaked clothes and put on dry. The ridge beyond the reach was crowded now with figures; Simon thought
he recognized Red Hawk in the centre of them. Gradually they dwindled in size and began to fall away astern.

“That's it!” Brad said. “We're in the current—heading south.”

Also by John Christopher

From Aladdin

THE TRIPODS SERIES

The White Mountains

The City of Gold and Lead

The Pool of Fire

When the Tripods Came

THE SWORD OF THE SPIRITS TRILOGY

The Prince in Waiting

Beyond the Burning Lands

The Sword of the Spirits

THE FIREBALL TRILOGY

New Found Land

Dragon Dance

The Guardians

The Lotus Caves

A Dusk of Demons

In the Beginning

Empty World

Wild Jack

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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This Aladdin hardcover edition October 2015

Text copyright © 1981 by John Christopher

Previously published in 1981 by E.P. Dutton.

Jacket illustration copyright © 2015 by Anton Petrov

Also available in an Aladdin paperback edition.

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Jacket designed by Karin Paprocki

Interior designed by Hilary Zarycky

The text of this book was set in Venetian 301.

Library of Congress Control Number 2014948957

ISBN 978-1-4814-2010-5 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-4814-2009-9 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-4814-2011-2 (eBook)